Your House
by Glinda
Summary: Sam's invisible - but why does no one seem to care?


AUTHOR: Glinda  
  
TITLE: Your House  
  
CATEGORY: Song/fic  
  
PAIRING: Sam/Jack (with hint of Sara/Jack)   
  
SEASON/SPOILER: Season 5 (early on because Daniel's in it and he hasn't died/ascended over here yet!) It'll make more sense if you've seen, the movie, COTG, Cold Lazarus, the season 3 episodes involving Machello, Maternal Instinct, Crystal Skull, Divide and Conquer, Ascension and Rite of Passage.  
  
WARNING: PG-13 character death (sort of) slight swearing   
  
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, don't own anything. Just a poor little Uni. student trying to stay sane by letting her imagination run wild. Not making any money...just doin this for fun! Plz don't sue! The song is Your House by Alanis Morisette off of Jagged Little Pill. I don't own that either.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know, I know! I promised I'd continue something else but...I'm supposed to be writing a History essay and my muse kept bugging me so I've written this in the vague hope that it'll get out of my system and I can get on with writing the essay. Unfortunately this is now longer than the essay was supposed to be! *sigh* Anyway, I was listening to the song while trying to make notes for this essay when the story sort of emerged out of the depths of my frazzled brain. Its for Miche whose laptop I'm writing this on between chunks of reasoning out why the British Empire went into liquidation (Why not?!) and who shares the joy of Stargate (why can't all aliens be that sexy?)...just not quite to my level of obsession!   
  
#I went to your house#  
  
It's a long walk from the base, I can't remember why I was walking...oh yeah. Because my car's in the shop and you were supposed to give me a lift. But since I left the infirmary - actually since I got hit off-world the other day - people are looking through me, talking over me, acting like I'm not there. I think I'm stuck just out of faze - like Daniel was. I don't recall seeing anything that looked capable of housing that sort of technology, but then again last time it was a crystal skull so what do I know? But why have the guys gone home? Why if I'm missing aren't they out looking for me? Every time one of them goes missing off-world the base is frenetic with energy. Do I mean that little to these people? Janet and Daniel at least seemed upset, Janet cried on his shoulder before they left. Which was weird, I've only seen Janet cry once and that was when we thought Cassie was going to die. At least someone cares that I'm missing! But she's gone too. But that's not the point...what was the point? I can't seem to concentrate today, must make them understand that I'm here. I keep losing track of my thoughts think it could be some sort of head injury. Oh yeah! Why couldn't I drive? I can't feel my right arm so that might be a little suicidal, plus the head thing. Concussion plus driving equals bad things. See! I can still deduce some things!  
  
#Walked up the stairs#  
  
I've arrived. Curious. If I am out of faze then why do I feel cold. I suppose it makes sense. I mean the Reetou must feel pain and heat and cold and they exist out of faze of us. Your truck isn't outside; I wonder if I should wait for you to come back. Hold on! You're not even aware I'm there! I just had to walk from the base to your house in the cold and I've got every right to do whatever the hell I like. Mainly because I'm angry and apparently invisible! How dare you give up on me! Standing outside your house isn't going to achieve anything other than me getting colder!  
  
#Opened your door without ringing the bell#  
  
Lets test my out of faze theory here. Ok. Clearly not going through doors here! Spare key. Right. Here goes. Success.  
  
#Walked down the hall#  
  
Hmm. It's just occurred to me that I've never been in your house alone before. It's a nice house. Wood panelled floors, soft coloured walls, durable comfortable furniture, big TV, masculine but not overly so. Hmm...what's through here?  
  
#Into your room where I could smell you#  
  
Oh. It's your bedroom. Big bed. Comfy. Assorted junk lying about...Oh god! It smells like you! That unique mix of aftershave, newly mown grass and something I can't describe as anything but you. I feel the tears well up in frustration before I push them away. I'm angry with you. Anger good. If I'm pissed off enough to throw things about then maybe, just maybe you'll notice me!   
  
#And I shouldn't be here #  
  
The feeling that I shouldn't be here is growing by the moment. Not just invading your privacy but something...deeper.  
  
#Without permission#  
  
Maybe it's just because I've never been here without one of the guys. Or maybe that damn command structure that's ingrained in my soul!   
  
#Shouldn't be here...#  
  
Maybe it makes sense. If this is part of some botched attempt to communicate between phases then I should be feeling a pull back to the planet. Maybe. There's something at the back of my head, trying to tell me something. But no matter how hard I strain I can't quite hear it. It's like someone whispering just out of range. You can here they're saying something - just not what.   
  
#Would you forgive me love if I dance in your shower?   
Would you forgive me love if I laid in your bed?   
Would you forgive me love if I stay all afternoon? #   
  
So I wait.  
  
#I took off my clothes#  
  
I take off my jacket and drop it on the bed. Maybe if its not part of me then you'll see it.  
  
# Put on your robe #  
  
But I'm cold now. I can't seem to get warm since we got back. Hmm...not a good sign. I can almost hear Janet doing her mother hen bit; see the stern expression telling me it's a symptom of shock and that she wants to keep me over night for tests. God...I never thought I'd be longing for those needles of hers. Pain medication too...although thankfully that's just a dull ache now. For the first few hours it felt like my body was literally being torn apart.   
  
# Went through your drawers #  
  
Hmm...where would you keep those hockey sweaters of yours? They always look so warm. Nope not here...socks...or here...t-shirts in this one...maybe in...here - Yes! Whoops...what's that?  
  
# And I found your cologne #  
  
Shit! What on Earth possessed you to wrap a bottle of cologne in your sweater? Unless...maybe it was wrapped in that so it didn't get broken when you went off to Minnesota last time. Probably just forgot it was there and shoved the sweater in the drawer. Makes sense now. Well, at least I can end the daftest betting pool the nurses have yet to invent...I can make a tidy profit with my inside knowledge...Hugo Boss...who'd've thought?!  
  
#Went down to the den #  
  
I've never been in your office before. It's quite a revelation. Star charts cover the walls between bookshelfs full of videos and books on a myriad of subjects: Astronomy (no surprise), Books on strategy I remember from long nights in the library at the Academy, Ice Hockey, Fishing(!) and...hey...that's...kinda cool...you've got me and Daniel's Doctorate Thesises! Cool.  
  
#Found your CD's #  
  
The silence is deafening in here. Weird that. I mean scientifically silence is identical wherever you are, but it still feels different. Back when we were in Antarctica the silence out of the ice-field was empty, void of life. When I wake up in my own bed after being stuck in the infirmary for days the peace and quiet of the night is comforting and I can revel in having my privacy back. But here...the silence is expectant...almost creepy...like in a horror film when something horrific is about to happen...any minute now the suspenseful music will start up! Weird chain of thought there Samantha! Music...ah...your CD collection. Again with the revelations! Classical stuff, film soundtracks I expected, even the carefully hidden cheesy pop singles and kids songs so beloved of Teal'c are no surprise but...'The Rocky Horror Picture Show'? Well...I rather like it myself but warped though your sense of humour may be...I never imagined...! If it were Monty Python's Flying Circus I wouldn't bat an eyelid but...well...this *has* been informative.  
  
#And I played your Joni#   
  
You know using CD boxes as Frisbees really wasn't one of your better ideas! No CD among the wreckage so it's probably in the machine. Let's see...it's paused...hmm...what did Joni Mitchell do to deserve being thrown across the room? I thought you liked playing Big Yellow Taxi after crappy missions? Something about it reminding you why we do what we do the way that we do it?  
  
#And I shouldn't stay long #  
  
That suspiciously note-less notice-board calls my name. On closer inspection it's clear you've put it to better use, adorning it with photographs, Poloroids mostly. One of you and Kowalski in the desert somewhere marked '87; Cassie & *that* puppy; Teal's and I giving Daniel a Queen's chair back to the 'gate after he broke his leg *again*; one of the four of us falling about laughing just after getting our team photo taken; your ex-wife Sara with a three year old I recognise as your son on her lap; one of a guy who looks like an older version of you with an arm round a twenty-something girl in Air force uniform with an oh-so-familiar grin the inscription on the back confirming my suspicions...Captain Charlotte E. O'Neill printed neatly at the top with 'Dad & Charlie just after her promotion '89' scrawled beneath it.  
  
#You might be home soon #  
  
Maybe you are affected by me being missing...if reminising while listening to Joni Mitchell has *that* effect on you!   
  
#Shouldn't stay long...#  
  
I feel a bit guilty now. I may be invisible but all the more reason to respect your privacy. That feeling that I should be somewhere else is back with a vengeance.   
  
#Would you forgive me love if I danced in your shower   
Would you forgive me love if I laid in your bed?   
Would you forgive me love if I stay all afternoon? #  
  
Along with the anger at my situation. The CD-changer clicks over the 'random' song selection is almost uncannily appropriate Alanis Morisette 'You Oughta Know'. It draws a smile...maybe I'm being irrational. If I get hysterical then that'll help no one but really, do you blame me? I've got this weird feeling that I'm becoming less real as time passes. That if I stay this way much longer then I'll simply fade away. And in all my years of active service I've never felt anything close to this level fear.  
  
# I burned your incense #  
  
Maybe if I try to tidy up I'll feel better? I light some incense in your room to combat the now overpowering smell of your aftershave, mopping it up with a cloth from the bathroom as best I can.  
  
# I ran a bath #  
  
I find your hockey sweater again and stop to contemplate trying to wash my wounds a bit before I put it on. You love these things...I doubt you'd appreciate me getting blood on one that's obviously a favourite. I pause in the renewed silence - surely the selection hasn't ended already! Just as I reach your office door a quiet voice starts singing again. Aaah...hidden track...kinda of ethereal...mmm... nice.  
  
# I noticed a letter that sat on your desk #   
  
As the song plays I notice a card about the size of a wedding invitation on the desk. I wonder who you know that's getting married? But those thoughts are lost as I read the handwritten note on the back. The song's words echoing what I read:  
  
#It said:   
"Hello love.   
I love you so, love.   
Meet me at midnight." #  
  
"As much as you cared for her, you have to move on with your life. You can't let mis-placed guilt control your life. Be there at 3pm or you'll always regret it. I'm always here if you need me. Sara xxx"  
  
#And no, it wasn't my writing #  
  
Oh.   
  
#I'd better go soon#   
  
Bloody.  
  
#It wasn't my writing #  
  
Hell.  
  
#So forgive me love if I cry in your shower #  
  
I walk into the living room and crumple on the sofa. Still angry. If possible more so because of my misery and that I've been so foolish. No wonder you're not out looking for me. My being gone makes it so much easier. There's no silly little 2IC to break the news to that you and your ex-wife are getting back together. Why was I so bloody foolish? To think I could ever compare to the mother of your son, the thought of who kept you alive for 9 days in the desert with a fractured skull? God...I've been so naïve. I hate myself for it. I'm supposed to be so smart, yet I've been taken for a fool.   
"I was never more than a substitute for Sara was I sir?"  
"I sincerely doubt that Major."  
  
#So forgive me love for the salt in your bed #  
  
So wrapped up in my misery that I didn't even hear the door. Sara O'Neill crouches in front of me. I quickly scrub my fist across my face in a pointless yet desperate attempt to hide my pain from her. Hold on.   
"You can see me? How?"  
"No idea. But I think they can see you too. But their heads tell them that you can't be there, that you're not real. After all, you're only faint and quite see-through." She smiles sadly "if I hadn't seen you myself I wouldn't have believed Jack when he called me." Seeing my bemused expression she continues. "He's in the kitchen hiding."  
"Why?" I ask. The kitchen the one place I didn't look. Could you tell I was angry? "why shouldn't he be able to see me? Why won't anyone acknowledge they can see me?" I can feel the anger build in place of the hurt.  
She sighs gently. "You don't even realise it do you?"  
"Realise what?" She takes the note from my hands, turns over the card and hands me it back to read. I can almost feel the air leave my body though I now know that's impossible. That knowledge at the back of my mind suddenly comes into focus. And the pain of my wounds and the realisation hit me at once. No. I can't be.  
"I'm...I'm..." I can't bring myself to say the words. That would make it too real. Maybe if I don't say it then I don't have to accept it so it won't be true. I've always been good at denial.  
"It was your funeral today. I think he didn't say anything before because he hoped you were just a figment of his imagination or that you'd go after the funeral. So if he's been ignoring you on base the last couple of days then that's why. Then he came home this afternoon to in his words "drown his sorrows" and found that you *had* left the base. You were here instead."  
"But why's he so scared."  
She raises her eyebrows questioningly and I am reminded briefly of Teal'c.   
"You three probably know Jack better after 5 years of working together than I did after 10 years of marriage...What are his biggest fears?"  
"Being left alone to die...and..." memories of Daniel's encounter with Machello and his comment about what you said before agreeing to go through the Zay'tarc testing, "going mad...He thinks he's going mad doesn't he?"  
"Can you blame him? I was beginning to wonder myself...that's why I'm here. I hoped that if you were really here then I could get the two of you to talk and acknowledge what's happened then you could move on." She sighs sadly "But you can't can you?" She's looking up and I follow her gaze to the doorway and see you standing there as she continues "Either of you."  
I rise off the sofa and walk over to you. You look exhausted. I can smell the alcohol from here. Your face is puffy and unshaven. And your eyes...they're darker than I've ever seen them. The expression on your face chills me more than the walk from the base. I pause barely a foot away from you but we could be on opposite sides of the street for all the difference it would make. That damn force-field might as well have been between us again. Eventually you speak and it's barely more than a whisper.  
"You're real?"  
"Yup."  
"Why?"  
"I think you know why."  
"Enlighten me" Sarcasm. That's a good sign. It's accompanied by a brief quirk of your lips and a slight softening in your expression though your voice is still hard.  
"I...I..." why am I so shy? I mean *really* who's gonna judge or punish me now? I'm dead! The worse has officially happened...I hope! "I can't leave you." You look away, so I reach out and draw your face back to look in my eyes before continuing softly "Anymore than you could leave me."   
And suddenly the ice melts and you're holding me and I'm clinging to you and you're burying your sobs in my hair and Sara might as well be on the moon for all we know. Slowly we loosen our grip on each other and pull back until we can see each other. We stand like that for an age with you playing with my hair. I'd been meaning to get it cut but I'd kept putting it off because I know how much you like it when it gets long enough to frame my face. Guess I'm stuck with it now. I can tell you're thinking about something. You've got that cute little confused frown you do when I'm trying to explain something to you. I'm about to ask when you say:  
"How?" There's wonder in your voice like I've only ever heard from you once or twice before in the years I've known you. And suddenly I don't care why or how I'm stuck here on Earth instead of being in whatever afterlife I'm supposed to be in. And then the truth hits me. So suddenly that it's like a body blow but so simple that I wonder why I never realised it before. Maybe it's the shock of the revelation but laughter overtakes me irresistibly.   
"I don't care!" I announce grinning; I can explain it all to you later. And though you're still confused it's infectious and you're laughing too and Sara's caught up in the moment and I can hear her collapse on the sofa laughing as her fears for you flee. In the happy aftermath we're crying again but with laughter this time content in our confusion.  
  
#So forgive me love if I cry all afternoon #  
  
"So this is the truth. These last few years, despite the pain and the hardships, the traumas and tragedies, have been the best of her life. She had the best job on the planet, found the best friends she'd ever known, got closer to her family than she'd ever been and achieved all her dreams. So now she's dead the powers that be decided she deserved to go to paradise and realised that her life was only one thing short of perfect. When he kissed her they knew that there was nowhere they'd rather be and discovered what they've always really known. Happiness is fleeting and needs to be treasured while it lasts. And Paradise? Paradise is where you find it."  
"You know, Orlin, this could be counted as interference..."  
"Where else could we send her Oma? Would you rather we just left her as she was? On some dreary distant planet not quite dead, not quite ascended? I owe her so much: the least I can do is let her be happy till the time comes for them to join us."  
"So this is about Samantha Carter being happy? Because we could have gone to the planet and helped her ascend properly..."  
"It wouldn't have worked, there's too much of her still tied to that level of existence for her to make the journey. It's like...I love her...with all my heart, but although she cared for me and would probably have learned to love me...it wouldn't come close to what they feel for each other...part of her would always be with him. If she ascended part of her would always be on earth. It wouldn't work."  
"I know. I just had to make sure you were doing this for the reasons. Now go float over the Sahara...there's a drought there and Colorado Springs is not exactly short of rain!"  
"Thank you, Oma. I owe you a great debt."  
"Indeed you do Orlin, indeed you do."  
  
~ Okay, so the ending is seriously sappy and cheesy. But I kinda got half way through writing it and decided that I wanted it to have a happy ending. If you wanna know what the original ending would have been then e-mail me and I'll send you it on. And apologies for the aftershave thing but one of the guys I live with walked into the kitchen earlier smelling pretty darn good so - I had to ask! 


End file.
